chromosomal abnormality

Ashlyn is our special 14 year old. She was a happy and healthy baby. We didn’t know until she was 6 weeks old that she had a chromosomal abnormality. We couldn’t get into a pediatric geneticist until she was 3 months old. It was then that we learned that a piece of her 6th chromosome was missing. This was very rare with less than 25 cases in the world similar to hers and none on record just like her. I felt amazed that God would trust me with such a special little girl. This also meant that no one knew what the outcomes would be for her.

“Wait and see,” is what they said. Chris and I were sure that she would be almost normal.

We were wrong.

With each passing month, each passing year it became more and more clear how wrong we were. I asked God for wisdom. I read What to do with Your Brain Injured Child by Glenn Doman and it became my guide.

I let Ashlyn lay on her belly all the time. It seemed like forever until she lifted her head, but she did it! I made a crawling track for her and eventually she started to scoot! That is, after many excruciating months in a brace to fix a right dislocated hip. Still, that right side didn’t seem quite right. She would drag that leg behind her while using the left leg to move forward across the floor.

It took many years and a trip to the Family Hope Center to get Ashlyn to start the cross-pattern crawling. Learning to climb up the stairs is what did it for her. I was overjoyed! I was ecstatic! I didn’t care how long she crawled. I knew she would get up and walk eventually.

Again, I was wrong.

She didn’t get up and bear weight on her feet. Slowly, ever so slowly, a mysterious and invisible force inside of her body began to pull her feet inward, the right more than the left. The legs began to become internally rotated on the hip sockets, the right more that the left. I didn’t notice and neither did all the doctors and specialists that she went to.

Finally we recognized a progressive club foot deformity. We employed many different types of therapies and braces which allowed her to stand independently for the first time when she was almost 9 years old and take 11 steps by herself by age 10.

We built her a walking track and she worked up to over a hundred trips a day! She could walk independently around the house.

However, that invisible force kept on pulling, robbing her of all the progress she had made. Now the only option left is surgery. I hate the thought of surgery. The pain. The 8-12 weeks of recovery and non-weight being. The bulky and difficult casts. The unknown outcome. The scar tissue and possible pain and arthritis later in life. I asked God for wisdom and I figured that we had to give Ashlyn the chance to walk.

No surgery would mean no walking.

I decided to get two opinions on Ashlyn’s case. The first with Dr. Sorenson at Hershey Bone and Joint Institute and the second with Dr. Herzenberg at the Rubin Institute for Advanced Orthopedics in Maryland. We saw Dr. Sorensen first. I like him so much! He recommended a Posterior Medial Release for the left foot and a Talectomy for the right foot (removing of the talus bone.) He had gotten a medial release when he was 12 years old and it has been great for him. He thought that Ashlyn would be able to walk just fine! I was so encouraged and left his office with hope.

I don’t ever remember leaving a doctor’s office with so much hope!

I researched the two doctors online and my heart sank. Dr. Herzenber had around 30 years more experience that Dr. Sorenson. I didn’t want to travel all the way to Maryland to see him, but I felt like I would be a horrible mother if I didn’t.

Thankfully Chris came with me on the day of the appointment. The drive was long. The wait in the office was even longer – 2 ½ hours in the room! Dr. Herzenberg sure knew his stuff! He said he had done many talecomies over the years but came to realize that a triple arthrodesis produced better results. A telectomy didn’t leave a joint at all, just scar tissue between two bones that didn’t fit together. This was not good for a major weight bearing part of the body. A triple arthrodesis would fuse three smaller joints but reform the talus bone into a working joint.

I left that visit feeling like this surgery would be totally impossible!

I had to give Ashlyn the best surgeon and the best option, but I could never drive back and forth to Baltimore time and time again for pre and post-op visits. I could never stay away from my family for the days that she would be in the hospital.

I decided to talk all of this over with Dr. Sorenson. I didn’t know how he would react. Some doctors bristle when you question their authority and opinion. I prayed and prayed. When I told him that I had taken Ashlyn to see Dr. Herzenberg for a second opinion he said, “Oh really! He is wonderful. I actually went to see him for a second opinion when I needed knee surgery.”

I showed him the report of Ashlyn’s appointment and Dr. Herzenberg’s recommendations. He sat down and read the entire report, WORD FOR WORD! I never expected that! It was clear that he admired this other doctor greatly.

When he had finished, he said, “I see his point with the triple arthrodesis.” He examined Ashlyn’s feet again and declared, “Yes, I think that would really work! Yes, I agree. I could do the surgery here for you or you could go see Dr. Herzenberg. I wouldn’t be offended at all.”

I told him that I would much rather do the procedure here in Hershey with him as the doctor. We talked about all the details; four weeks of casting prior to surgery to stretch the muscles as much as possible, three days in the hospital, 4-6 weeks in castes, 4-6 weeks in special boots.

“I am so glad you went for a second opinion,” he said at the end of the appointment.

I was overjoyed! I liked this doctor and the office much more than the Baltimore option, but I never dreamed that it would work out so well! I thanked God over and over for this humble and wonderful Dr. Sorenson. I prayed that God would make him brilliant beyond his own abilities!

As I thought about writing this article in hopes of raising a prayer army for Ashlyn, I realized something. I wasn’t really expecting this surgery to work, to actually give Ashlyn the ability to walk. I was doing it because to not do it would seem like neglect. But my expectations were of pain and suffering for Ashlyn, myself, and the entire family; not of a breakthrough. There were two reasons for my dismal outlook.

There were other issues that made walking difficult, her hips and the 50% curvature of her spine that would not be addressed in this surgery.

Everytime we had followed instructions that were supposed to help Ashlyn’s feet, it failed to do so. Doctors, therapist, and The Family Hope Center had prescribed 8 different therapies or equipement to use and here Ashlyn is…a 14 year old who can’t walk.

God has been coaxing me away from my expectations rooted in the past. He is bringing me into faith.

Faith that the future could hold more healing and more promise than I can see right now.

I am also asking Him for miraculous healing since I know that He is the great Physician and that He would do a perfect job with no pain or scar tissue! I am taking Ashlyn to a healing room this Saturday and hope to take her To Randy Clark’s healing service on Good Friday.

Ashlyn goes for her first casting on March 21st. Her second casting is April 4th. Her surgery will be on April 19th at Hershey Med Center. Could you please pray for God’s amazing healing to be displayed and for peace and comfort for Ashlyn and the rest of the family as well! I am not sure how I am going to deal with showers and potty-time with Ashlyn in two casts, unable to stand or walk at all. Pray for God’s wisdom and grace! Thank you for standing with us and expecting wonderful things!

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I think most mothers feel some level of guilt every single day. I know that I do. I have heard it said that guilt is just part of the job description. Should it be? Surely God doesn’t intend for us to carry this heavy load. Wouldn’t we be much better mothers if we were free from guilt?

When my baby wakes up and I can’t calm him. (Surely I should understand a baby’s needs by this time!)

When I yell at my eight year old and he hides in the linen closet and cries. (I am so mean.)

When my teenager yells at ME for outlawing the indiscriminate consumption of sugar. (I am so unreasonable and extreme.)

When my oldest daughter is stressed out because of the amount of house work she has to do. (I should be doing more of the work myself.)

When my special needs girl is crying because I am forcing her to do therapy (what kind of monster am I?)

When my two year old screams so the entire grocery store can hear. (I have failed at disciplining him and instilling a sweet and joyful personality.)

I have realized that all moms have times like these. So if we are all universally dealing with the guilt of our motherhood failures, THERE MUST BE AN ANSWER!!!!

Let me take you on a journey of extreme guilt and perhaps you will recognize your own journey. I have a daughter who was born after a more difficult birth requiring Pitocin. I wrote all about it in my article, “Birth Story, Part 3.” She looked perfect and beautiful to me, but the hospital staff was convinced that there was something wrong with her. She had unusual facial features and two toes on each foot were partially webbed. They continued to “find” more and more abnormalities in her internal organs that could have had serious consequences. Yet in just two days, she went home with me; a healthy, happy and totally normal baby!

Or so I thought…until I received a call when Ashlyn was 6 weeks old. The chromosome analyses revealed that she was missing a piece of her 6th chromosome. No one had ever heard of such a thing and no one knew what this might mean.

Chris and I were convinced that our daughter would be just fine. She could grow up without physical or mental handicaps because God would show us exactly what to do. I read and researched and read and researched some more. Other children like her had been able to maintain higher than average intelligence when put on an intensive therapy program developed by the Institute for the Achievement of Human Potential. I opted to enroll Ashlyn in a similar program at the Family Hope Center.

It required taking Ashlyn to the center every six months for an evaluation and to learn the home treatment plan. Each trip would cost $5,000. We weren’t able to take her until she was three or four years old. I felt terrible about losing those valuable first years, even though I tried to institute the therapies at home that I had taught myself by reading their books. We were able to raise and save the money to go to the Family Hope Center a total of three times in the 12 years of her life. Each time the Family Hope Center infused me with great ideas and many wonderful therapies.

But there was a problem. How could I possibly accomplish 6 hours of therapy with Ashlyn each day? I found it a struggle to devote even two hours to her with all the needs of my other children, the house, and my husband. Many times Ashlyn would be very uncooperative or sick, and we got nothing accomplished at all. I watched the years pass by and her developmental delays became more and more pronounced. The gap between her actual age and her neurological age grew wider and wider.

I took some comfort in the fact that all the crawling around on the floor she was doing was organizing her brain, and that someday she would eventually walk. When that day came, her intelligence would be much higher because of the abundance of cross pattern crawling she had done.

What I didn’t know was that she was developing a progressive club foot deformity. Perhaps it was because of her chromosomes, perhaps it was because of the lack of weight bearing on her feet, perhaps it was because of the poor position of her legs and feet while crawling. Her large shoes created a crawling form never taken by a normal baby. The handicap crept up on me and all of her healthcare providers until…her muscles and bones formed abnormally.

She became unable to stand up or walk normally and may never be able to.

I felt like this, along with all of her other physical and emotional issues, were my fault. Whenever I looked at her twisted and painful feet, I would feel deep sorrow and crushing guilt. God had given her to me, and surely he had given me the tools to help her, but I had failed. Failed not just in a little thing but in something that will greatly impact the quality of her life…her entire life.

Everyone who saw Ashlyn would always comment on how well she was doing, how much progress she was making, and what an amazing job I was doing.

But I never believed them.

Chris was always saying that Ashlyn WAS doing so well because of all the time I spent with her and all the good things I have done with her. Without my intervention, he said, she would still be lying like a blob on the floor.

But I never believed him.

I continued to blame myself for her every deficiency. Therapy was a chore, and Ashlyn was very often unhappy. How happy could you be when the sight of you reminded your mother of her guilt?

OK, this is an extreme case of guilt, but I am sure all of you mothers (and fathers) out there can relate to some degree. Does my guilt sound reasonable and rational to you? Have I been a horrible mother? Does God want me to carry this burden?

Nooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!

And he doesn’t want you to carry it either!

So let’s clear up a few things, mothers and fathers out there. I am going to tell you some truth, and I want to open up your ears and hearts and BELIEVE ME!

When something goes wrong…it is not your fault!

When your child is not perfect…it is not your fault!

When the world around you is not perfect…it is not your fault!

When you are not perfect…well, that may be your fault, but it is ok!

God, in his infinite wisdom, knew that you would not be perfect, yet he gave you that child anyway. He knew that you were the very best parent for that child.

You cannot save your child from their sin, their bad habits, or their circumstances.

You cannot heal your child; not their bodies or their souls or their spirits.

You cannot mold them and shape them into the person you think they should be.

ONLY GOD CAN DO THAT!

Sometimes God does those things THROUGH you in his time and his way and you may be totally unaware that he is doing it. The closer we are to God, the more our minds are filled with his wisdom, the more attuned we are to his voice, the more he can flow through us to our children.

The vague feeling of failure that most of us moms carry around is not from God! The thought that if we were better parents our children wouldn’t be so….whatever it is that they are…doesn’t come from God. It comes from the Enemy of our souls. He knows that we are the perfect parent for our child and that God is using us in amazing ways. He wants to make us ineffective in this most important calling.

It is true that sometimes we do things wrong and we need to ask forgiveness from God and our children. If we are listening to the Holy Spirit, he will show us when these times occur. He will convict us in a very specific way and give us hope that there is forgiveness and healing through him.

Here is an example:

Condemnation from the Enemy: If you were smarter, more organized, and more loving, your daughter would have walked years ago.

Conviction from the Holy Spirit: When Ashlyn was crying during her walking therapy today, you continued to push her. You should have slowed down, looked her in the eyes, and talked to her gently. You could have showed her that you saw and acknowledged her pain. You could have investigated the specific location of her pain and asked me for wisdom as to whether she was just whining out of childish self-pity, or whether she had a real injury.

Condemnation must be answered with the truth. Conviction must be answered with saying you are sorry and changing your behavior.

What is the truth? You can find it in the pages of your Bible. You can find it in the eyes of your Savior. You can find it in the voice of your Father. In his presence there is fullness of joy. Joy because in his presence he tells you how beloved you are. He shows you how in control he is, and how your little mistakes can’t derail his plan. I have found that conviction is a rather small part of what the Father does. The large part is lavishing his praises and love and encouragement on us! Being in his presence makes me a much better mother than guilt and self-criticism ever did. I wrote about how I try to get into his presence during a hectic mommy day in my article, “Grumpy Mommy Morning.”

Have you ever had this experience in worship? Your heart is bursting with love for God. Your gratitude is so deep that you can’t express it in words. You have so many things to thank God for that you are glad you have an eternity, because that is how long it will take! You wish you could do something worthy of your wonderful God; singing, dancing, painting a beautiful picture, writing a 300 page masterpiece…yet all you can do is just stand there and let the overwhelming joy wash over you. Wouldn’t it be awesome to feel that way all the time? To mother our children out of that kind of joy? Someday, maybe we will.

Have you ever thought that maybe God feels that way about you? That being with you brings him overflowing joy that will last forever. That he is so thankful for you and your life!

Blows your mind!!! That’s what happens when you start listening to God’s voice. He blows your mind with a new perspective that sends the guilt and shame packing.

Once I was sitting on my sofa, miserable with morning sickness and feeling like an awful mom. God broke into my despair and said to me, “Thank you! Thank you for being available to carry this child. Without you, I couldn’t have brought this child of destiny into the world.”

THAT is the truth.

You may feel very imperfect. You may be sure that you are messing up your sweet innocent child, and that they will need inner healing as a result of your poor parenting techniques. But without you, they would never have been born. They would have never had the chance to experience life, love, laughter, and sorrow. They would never get to see the sights of this earth or heard the sounds. They would never have gotten the chance to choose right from wrong. They would never have the opportunity to try and fail and try again. They would have never had the opportunity to be messed up and then healed!

So thank you mom! Let me say a big “thank you” to you from God, your child, and the world! Thank you for giving your child life. Thank you for doing your best. Your best is a wondrous reality full of deeply textured experiences. It is not all sunshine and roses, but even the chance to experience sadness and suffering is a gift. Thank you mom for that gift.

Did you know that God uses motherhood as a picture of abundant prosperity? Is 66:10-12 compares the prosperity of Jerusalem to nursing and being satisfied at a mother’s breast and drinking deeply in her overflowing abundance. Then verses 12-13 says, “I will extend prosperity to her like a river, and the wealth of the nations like an overflowing stream; and you will nurse and be carried on her arm, and dandled on her knees. As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you.”

God compares himself to a mother! God is going to comfort us like a mother! Ahhhh, what a wonderful, peaceful image that is. Mothers – God is using you to show himself to your children. Your nursing and cuddling and soothing is revealing to your child what God is like. You may not do it 100% perfect all the time, but there you are, doing it and giving your child a frame of reference for the love of God!

This world is not perfect. You may think you are doing a very poor job of protecting your child from the toxins in our food, the poisons on TV, and the bullies at school. Let me remind you that this world is not our home. It is a hostile warzone, full of danger. It is hard to see the warzone because it is disguised by the white picket fences and flower boxes of suburbia, but it is a warzone, nonetheless. We are living here as missionaries, trying to show the love of God to those who will violently oppose us even as we love them. We were created for a place much more beautiful and holy and perfect than this. But we are here because God has a wondrous plan. To raise children in the muddy trenches of this harsh environment is difficult.

No, it is downright COUREGEOUS!

Mother, you are a mighty and strong warrior! If you and your family are splattered with grime, fight bravely on! Your Champion has already won this war, and soon his victory will be evident to all. He is able to keep your children safe.

All of these pictures were taken on a trip to the Family Hope Center we took with Ashlyn in 2010. Here is an old cemetery seeming to encroach into the sacred boundary of a park for children. Yet joy and sorrow, life and death dwell together in surreal beauty. Joy that Ashlyn is alive and healthy. Sorrow because of the realization that all my best efforts cannot heal her.

And in the midst of this war zone, God gives us a little piece of heaven, our own paradise… if we can learn to abide in him and open our eyes to the beauty in the brokenness.

A few months ago I was talking with a woman whose sister was a teacher for 35 years. She taught at an institution for severely handicapped and damaged children. She told me that most of the children had been abandoned by their parents. She would prepare classes for the children, because they were eligible for free education until the age of 21. She would stand at the front of the class room and teach letters, numbers, days of the week, etc. to a room full of wheelchair bound children who couldn’t talk. Some would never interact or show any evidence of learning anything at all. She would try to organize fun activities and field trips for them since they rarely had visitors. She would put on a parent’s nights to highlight what their children had been learning and usually, no parent came.

I marveled at the love and special grace this woman had to continually pour into these children and young adults with very little encouraging results. It took me months of pondering this before I realized…this could have been Ashlyn. If she had never had me as her mother or Chris as her father, if she had been taken care of by a collection of paid state workers, what would she be like right now? Was Chris right in saying what he had said many times before?

“Without all that you have done for her, Anne, she would still be laying like a blob on the floor.”

Ashlyn is a unique treasure that God has given me. And I am a gift to her; a loving mother who shows her how much God loves her.

A new perspective sure does a lot. In fact, that is the answer to the guilt of motherhood. Get your eyes off of yourself and onto Jesus.

Why don’t you put on some worship music like David Leach Worship or Bethel Music and seek God for his perspective on your mothering career. Let that guilt just walk out the door!

Special note to mothers who may have legitimate guilt over huge mistake that you have made in the past. You may have killed your child, mistreated him badly, or abandoned him. These are serious offenses, but not unforgivable. Most of the major players in the Bible had grievous sins and were very bad parents! Yet God forgave them and loved them and used them to bring untold numbers of people to himself. Guilt is God’s mercy to bring you to him. Seek God for that kind of forgiveness and transformation in your life. Once you lay your guilt down at the cross, don’t ever let the Devil convince to pick it up again. Jesus signed his name to your sin and died as the punishment for it. It is finished! You are loved and you have a future full of hope.

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I was two weeks away from my due date. It was late at night, and I felt a strange gush. I thought my water might have broken, but I wasn’t sure. That had never happened to me before, except at the very end of labor. Labor had not even started, but perhaps it would start soon.

Then I thought back to my first birth when the doctor had broken my water when I was half way dilated. How that had increased the pain! And now my bag of waters was already broken before the first contraction had commenced. Would I have to go through this entire labor with intense pain? Suddenly a tiny seed of fear took hold. During that sleepless night, it sent out invasive roots into my mind that became intertwined with every thought. I couldn’t relax or rest. I was too scared that any moment a contraction would come and assault my body with pain. This may seem very strange if you are familiar with my wonderful previous birth experiences. Why should I be so afraid this time?

My family had been living in an atmosphere of mounting fear for the past few years. We had started going to a new church when we moved to Colorado Springs, 6 years earlier. At first it was wonderful, full of life and joy. Slowly it moved away from the love and forgiveness of God and had begun to concentrate on our personal sins. To listen to our leaders counsel us and rebuke us time and time again, you would have thought we were teetering on the edge of hell. One wrong move and…we were done for! Talk about an atmosphere of fear!

This of course does not sound like the gospel of Jesus Christ at all! Yet there was just enough truth woven into the lies that we continued to try to reform ourselves and gain the approval of our leadership and of God.

Later I realized that I had always had God’s love and approval despite what my church was telling me. God had even told us to leave the church. He had given me a scripture that said, “Do not have sons and daughters in this place.” At the time, I thought He meant that we should not give birth to this child in Colorado Springs, but rather in New York, where some of our church members lived. We tried to move, but it never worked out. We thought we had messed up somehow, but we weren’t sure how. Months later, I read that verse in my journal and the meaning became so clear! I shouldn’t have given birth while under this leadership of fear. But right now I was still in the thick of it, and the panic was holding back the very thing that I most needed…contractions!

The sun rose and labor had not started. I didn’t realize what sorrow was in store. I had no indication that the child within me had a rare chromosomal abnormality that the doctors had never heard of. I had no idea what trauma she would have to endure in the first two days of her life, and how it would hurt my mother’s heart. (This is another story for another time. But don’t worry; this story ends with God’s wonderful redemption, just like every story in the life of a believer.) Yet I had a feeling of impending doom. I tried to shake it off. I tried to find my peace in Jesus, but my mind just kept spinning in fearful circles.

After we ate lunch and there were still no signs of labor, Chris and I decided to go to the hospital. The nurse we talked to said she needed to look at the fluid under a microscope, but I had none leaking out at the moment. The nurse didn’t think my water had broken, and was inclined to send me home, but instead, sent me on a walk and told me to come back in about an hour so she could check again.

Chris and I strolled around downtown Colorado Springs. It was a lovely, sunny day in January, and we walked around the Olympic Training Center. It was so beautiful, and I knew that I should be enjoying the time with my husband, yet my stomach was in knots. I was hoping that the nurse would just send me home and I could go into labor on another day, a day free from this weight of worry. Nervousness kept bubbling over until I started to cry.

Chris tried to comfort me as we entered the hospital again, but I didn’t feel any better. All that walking had released some amniotic fluid, and they confirmed that my water had broken.

“When did it break?” the red-haired midwife named Alice asked.

“Last night around 11,” I answered. It was now getting close to supper time.

The red-head immediately snapped to attention and spoke with alarm.

“What?! Your water has been broken for over 12 hours? We need to start you on Pitocin right away. And we will have to give you intravenous antibiotics to ward off any infection.”

That is not what I thought a midwife would say. I thought a midwife would have faith in a women’s body to do what it needed to do without artificial hormones.

I started to cry uncontrollably. I was devastated.

“I don’t want Pitocin!” I insisted.

“We have to do it. We have to deliver this baby as soon as possible because we don’t want you or the baby to develop an infection. But we will start the drip slowly.”

I was taken into a birthing room and hooked up to monitors and a Pitocin drip. I couldn’t stop crying. My dream of a natural birth was being taken from me. I had talked to other women who had Pitocin, and their reports had included hard, heavy contractions with intense pain…in one word – torture.

The nurse looked at me with my snotty nose and puffy red eyes. She seemed annoyed, as though she would rather not deal with me at all.

“We will give you one round of antibiotics now and another around midnight.”

“What if I have the baby before midnight?”

I had gotten on her last nerve!

“You are NOT going to have this baby before midnight,” she snapped. “You are not even in active labor. It takes lots of hard contractions to birth a baby. You probably won’t even have this baby before morning.”

I should have realized that I knew a lot more about birthing babies than she did. After all, I had already had three, natural, wonderful births. In my fearful, emotional state, however, her words pushed me into depression. I saw a night of agonizing pain in front of me and I saw no way out of it. I wished that they could just do a C-section and be done with it. I didn’t know how to labor under the influence of Pitocin! I just wanted to die. Death would be better than what I would have to go through.

“And if I do get through this alive,” I thought, “I am never having anymore babies!”

Chris could see that I was falling apart.

“You are so upset because you are not in control. You just need to give up control and trust God! God is in control, and it is going to be just fine,” he said.

A small flame of faith was lit in my heart. I relaxed a little and tried my best to trust in God. It was 5:40 and I was only at 4 cm.

Our friend Chris came to the hospital and brought my husband Chris some supper. She encouraged me to fall into the arms of Jesus.

“Pray, ‘Whatever it takes, I will do it and trust you,” she said.

I prayed that prayer and surrendered. I was starting to feel more peaceful. Around 8pm the contractions started in earnest. At first they were surprisingly painful.

“If it hurts this much when I am only 4 cm dilated, how will I make it when I am at 8 or 9 or 10?!” I asked Chris, despairing again.

“Don’t worry about that. Just take them one at a time.”

My wise and loving husband got me back on track again! I finally remembered to relax during each contraction. I would lean over the bed and let my belly drop and hang loose. I would relax my arms, then my legs, and finally my face muscles. Instant relief!

The grumpy nurse had ended her shift, and she was replaced by a solemn and worried looking nurse. This new nurse wanted me to get into bed so she could check my cervix. I hated lying in a bed; it was so uncomfortable! As soon as I lay down, however, I uttered to everyone’s amazement, “I have to push!”

I gave one push and the baby’s head was visible! The midwife ran out to get Alice. The midwife ran in and said, “Wow, it was a good thing I didn’t go home for supper like I was planning on! Alright, let’s have this baby!”

I was able to quiet myself and hardly push at all. It was like a moment in a movie when everything is in slow motion, and you are aware of every small detail. I could feel her little head crowning and easing out so gently on her own, without much extra effort on my part. And then she was born! So quickly, so easily! I was in awe! Instantly the worry and fear gave way to relief, joy and overwhelming gratitude! I had made wrong decisions. I hadn’t trusted God. I had descended into the depths of despair, and God had reached down and pulled me out! And in His great mercy, He had given me a fast, smooth birth. It was 8:20pm. God had proven that grumpy nurse wrong! I was holding my sweet little Ashlyn Autumn, “God’s Vision for the Harvest” and I was content!

I learned that fear is the enemy of labor, and Jesus is the enemy of fear. Rest in Him! Trust in Him! He can always turn our nightmares into a sublime Vision of His Goodness!

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It is such a gift to have siblings…lots of them! My firstborn was a girl, Areli. When she was 18 months, our second child, Cole, arrived. Areli took to him right away. She couldn’t say, “baby” but she could say “boo-boo.” Boo-Boo became his name for the next two years. Areli and Cole cannot remember life without each other or “our chuthers” as they used to say. They were always best friends, like peas and carrots. They still are.

Two years after Cole, Cadin came along. They were a happy trio, getting into trouble and playing pretend. Cadin was always his own person, however, having different tastes than his older brother.

Ashlyn was born 18 months later. Her development was very delayed because of a chromosomal abnormality. She didn’t crawl for a long time and didn’t sit up until she was almost two years old. She didn’t begin to stand and walk until she was nine. Her world until that time was on the floor. God provided three little boys to take turns sharing the floor with her. Chai was born when she was 18 months, Cooper two years later, and Calvin two years after that. Oh the fun fellowship they shared, exploring every inch of the space underneath things and “cleaning up” any crumbs that fell there.

Cooper and Calvin have a special bond because they share a room and a bunk bed. They are now 7 and 5, and they are hyper, little balls of energy. We call them C&C Music Factory. If I want a peaceful outing to the store, I must only take one of them along.

My children love each other! They never lack a friend to play with. It is true that sometimes they express hatred rather than love, hurting the other just for the sheer enjoyment of it and denying that they are related at all. But I know that when the immaturity of this season passes, they will be deep and earnest friends for the whole of their lives.

Each new baby was welcomed with such excitement and enthusiasm that we had to protect the vulnerable little thing from being loved on too much. It was so sweet to see a normally wild boy get quiet and still when it was his turn to hold the baby.

Areli was always a natural mother. She got to be present at the birth of four of her little brothers. She was enchanted with it all. Childbirth can be intense at times, but witnessing it only seemed to increase her love for babies and her desire to be a mom someday. When Calvin outgrew the newborn, eat every few hours at night stage, he slept in a crib in Areli’s room. She was so happy to have him there. She would change him and clothe him and snuggle with him. She would even comfort him if he cried during the night and she wouldn’t tell me about it until the morning. A sister like that is worth more that her weight in gold!

Calvin turned two, and no new baby arrived. Cooper, age 4 at this time, began talking to me about the fact that we really needed a baby. I told him to pray about it. He did! After a few more months had pasted, Cooper came to me exasperated.

“I prayed for a baby, but I don’t think God heard me! We don’t have a baby yet!”

I encouraged him to keep praying and that God knows the perfect time for everything. More prayer seemed to increase Cooper’s vision. Soon he was reporting to me that God had 10 babies for us, 5 boys and 5 girls! They were up in heaven, just waiting for God to send them down.

This seemed rather far fetched, so Daddy told him, “Perhaps you are talking about the children that you will have someday when you get married!” Cooper didn’t seem so sure.

Not long after that, Chris and I announced to the children that I indeed had another baby in my belly. Cheers erupted! They all wanted another baby to hold and snuggle and change and dress. They were all so excited, none more than Cooper.

“I hope it’s a boy!” he announced.

Since we already had 5 boys, the rest of us thought a girl would be nice. An ultrasound revealed that the baby was indeed….another boy! Cooper was overjoyed!

“Now we only need four more boys, and 5 more girls!”

I have always encouraged my children to pray to God and listen to His voice. Cooper had always been great at this, possessing that child-like faith in great measure. I didn’t want to tell him that he was not hearing God’s voice, because how did I know? In my own walk with God, His words were usually somewhat surprising to me when they came, interrupting my own thought with an altogether different message. I have found that His thoughts are truly not like our thoughts; that His ways are not like our ways. He is constantly trying to get us out of that box (or cage), encouraging us to jump off of that cliff, and teaching us to fly with Him above the logical and obvious.

So Cooper’s ambitious vision for brothers and sisters does seem like impossibility, considering my diminishing fertile years. We had seriously looked into adoption a few years back, but right now, that seems impossible as well. How do I feel about the fact that Cooper thinks I should give birth 9 more times, or have triplets 3 times, or have two more babies and adopt seven, or any number of other scenarios?

I know that God knows what He is doing and His ways are mysterious beyond my comprehension but far better than what I could ever imagine!

So I just say, “Keep praying Cooper…keep praying! You never know what God might do…for the love of a sibling!”